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“Ça c’est la vie?”

American artist and filmmaker Julian Schnabel has crafted a visually stunning psychological portrait of a man trapped in his physical body but able to traverse time and place simply by letting his imagination run wild.

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Review by Hugh Lilly

Julian Schnabel’s third feature film, The Diving-Bell and the Butterfly, is an adaptation of the novel of the same name by Jean-Dominique Bauby, a former editor of the French fashion journal Elle. Just prior to Christmas 1995, Bauby - ‘Jean-Do’ to his friends - suffered a massive stroke that not only left him in a weeks-long coma but also paralysed almost his entire body. The only remaining faculty of use to him was his left eye, and all he could do to communicate with the world was blink, one staccato motion at a time. It was in this manner that he would put together his memoir, letter by letter, ‘imprisoned’ in his own body, which lay mostly dormant in Room 119 of the Naval Hospital at Berck-sur-Mer in northern Normandy. The rare condition with which he was afflicted is known as ‘locked-in syndrome’, and although he was unable to move much of his body, he could escape in his mind and take flight to anywhere he liked. As he writes, the only two things which can never be dulled by physical disability are imagination and memory. With this in mind, the book’s subtitle, “a memoir of life in death,” is fitting.

After mastering basic yes-no answers (one blink for no, two for yes) Jean-Do’s speech therapist introduced a way for him to form more elegant phrases: she would read out the letters of the French alphabet in order of their frequency of use, and he would blink to indicate the letter he wished to use. In this manner, Bauby - with the aid of an assistant - slowly formed the sentences that would become the 150-page book chronicling his time in hospital and his experience as a ‘butterfly’ trapped in an inescapable cocoon. Beautiful and meticulous camerawork by renowned cinematographer Janusz Kaminski captures the essence of the book perfectly, providing an articulate cinematic interpretation of Bauby’s words, and Mathieu Almeric, a French actor perhaps best known to mainstream audiences for his role in Steven Spielberg’s Munich, imbues Bauby with just the right amount of wry cynicism and sentimentality, qualities his friends appreciated in him.

Vague and blurry, the opening shots of the film plunge us immediately into Bauby’s world; we see what he sees, or rather we see his fractured, blurred vision of the world and those who inhabit it. Fluttering as if trapped under a glass, the butterfly of Jean-Do’s mind - and, by extension, the camera lens, opens and closes with his left eyelid. Inaudible muffled chattering can be heard in the background as a doctor approaches to assess Bauby’s condition upon first waking from a coma three weeks after suffering the stroke which so viciously crippled him. The film continues in this fashion, guiding us through this bizarre, monocular vision of an altered reality, one where characters, like Bauby’s children and their mother, flitter in and out of view. Because the camerawork throughout much of the film is subjective, it becomes impossible not to empathise with the plight our protagonist finds himself in.

The first of a number of flashbacks transports us to a time before the accident, when Bauby was editor-in-chief of Elle magazine, where mingling with rock stars and beautiful models was all in a day’s work. This is curtly interrupted by a doctor who sutures shut Bauby’s right eye, and, in one of the most grimace-inducing scenes in recent memory, we see this all from behind the eyelid; based purely on how the shot looks, comparisons to the Saw and Hostel franchises could easily be drawn. Schnabel’s camera switches in and out of this subjective position, and it is not until almost half way through the film’s 112 minutes that we are afforded a full view of the broken, fragile body in which Bauby is trapped. In another flashback, a touching scene unfolds: Bauby, a few days before the accident, visits his ageing father, Papinou (Max von Sydow), who is confined to the top floor of his Paris apartment. Bauby gives the old man a shave and, as he looks at himself in a mirror surrounded by pictures of his son, he tells Jean-Do how proud he is of him. In a much more affecting scene later in the film, the father calls his son and tells him, over a speaker-phone: “We’re in the same boat…. we’re both locked-in cases; you in your body, and me in my apartment.”

Visits from friends and family break the tedium of hospital routines, and afford an opportunity for Bauby to venture outside. In one such sequence, set to a Tom Waits song, his ex-wife Céline (Emmanuelle Seigner) and his children take him out for a day at the beach, and although Bauby cannot directly communicate with his son, they are able to play a game of Hangman together. Of course, Bauby can escape the confines of his hospital room in another way: in his dreams. He frequently travels back in time, and resuscitates long-lost memories of time spent with friends, and of imaginary, fantastic meals at expensive restaurants. Because his hearing was dulled, Bauby longed for moments of silence; it was basically aural torment if someone forgot to close the door of his hospital room, because he would be inundated by a cacophony of irritating, never-receding sounds. However, “…when blessed silence returns,” he wrote, “I can listen to the butterflies that flutter inside my head. To hear them, one must be calm and pay close attention, for their wing beats are barely audible. Loud breathing is enough to drown them out. This is astonishing: my hearing does not improve, yet I hear them better and better. I must have butterfly hearing…” During the book’s composition, Bauby’s long-term prognosis was not fully known; 10 days after its French publication, he died from pneumonia in a hospital near Paris. He was 44.

The film won numerous awards including Best Foreign Film at this year’s Golden Globes press conference, where Schnabel was also awarded Best Director - an accolade repeated at the 60th Annual Cannes Film Festival. In addition, it was in the running for four awards at this year’s Oscars, and film critics around the world praised it unanimously for its visual composition and unique perspective. Hailed as one of the best films of 2007, The Diving-Bell and the Butterfly played at the recent World Cinema Showcase in Auckland, and opens in select cinemas on May 22.

Links: Official site, Wikipedia, IMdb

Theme Time Radio Hour

Bob Dylan’s Theme Time Radio Hour is a weekly XM radio show that has been going since around the middle of 2006 and has just finished its second season. From Wikipedia:

Each episode is an eclectic brew of blues, rockabilly, soul music, bebop, rock-and-roll and pop music, centered around a “theme,” with songs from artists as diverse as Patti Page to LL Cool J. Interspersed between the music segments are email readings (scripted rather than mail from actual listeners); phone calls (also scripted); old radio station i.d.’s, promos, and jingles; “def poet” poetry recitations; taped commentary from a variety of musicians and comedians; and thoughts from Dylan on the music and musicians, as well as food and drink recipes and other miscellanea related to the themes.

A blog of the same name, Theme Time Radio Hour, has graciously put hard work into compiling every single show thus far. Having never listened to the show before, this’ll be interesting, and possibly time-consuming…

Also relevant: Vanity Fair magazine has in its current issue a two-page spread using key-words from an episode; click the below thumbnail to read the whole thing — be sure to check out the full-sized layout as well!

PRI: Dumbing down the USA

Public Radio International’s “To The Best of Our Knowledge” this week featured author Susan Jacoby and her theory that there exists a growing ‘dumbing down’ culture in America; from the education system to the Internet, Jacoby argues that the level of basic knowledge about everyday things — such as the location of important Middle East countries — is sorely lacking in many high school (and even college) graduates. She argues also that anti-intellectualism and anti-rationalism is becoming more prominent; that the rise of evangelical, fundamentalist religion is helping that anti-intellectualism prevail.

Also on the programme, satirist George Saunders, Chris Bachelder, author of Bear v. Shark, and, continuing the ‘dumb’ theme, author and Web 2.0 critic Andrew Keen speaks about his book The Cult of the Amateur.

» Direct .mp3 link at NPR [53:03, ~20MB]

Precious Images

Precious Images is an utterly fascinating, spell-binding 1986 short film by Chuck Workman which explores the history of the motion picture. Here is an newer, eight-minute-long version:

UMG: Don’t throw out that promo CD!

Via BoingBoing:

Universal Music: it’s illegal to throw away the promo CD we sent you without your permission
The Electronic Frontier Foundation’s Fred von Lohmann sez, “In a brief filed in federal court yesterday, Universal Music Group (UMG) states that, when it comes to the millions of promotional CDs (’promo CDs’) that it has sent out to music reviewers, radio stations, DJs, and other music industry insiders, throwing them away is ‘an unauthorized distribution’ that violates copyright law. Yes, you read that right — if you’ve ever received a promo CD from UMG, and you don’t still have it, UMG thinks you’re a pirate.”

Pretty ridiculous, really.

I’m Not There: OST

I’m Not There. - Various Artists (Columbia Records, 2007)

Review by Hugh Lilly.

Todd Haynes’ I’m Not There is a pseudo-biopic of Bob Dylan that combines the talents of a number of actors to create a patchwork representation of the iconic singer-songwriter’s life. In the same vein, the soundtrack perfectly complements the film by assembling a wide variety of contemporary musicians to re-interpret Dylan’s music and poetry in myriad ways. Disc one opens with an energetic take on “All Along The Watchtower” by Pearl Jam’s Eddie Vedder and the ‘Million Dollar Bashers,’ a supergroup of musicians formed to back up solo artists. Combining the talents of Steve Shelley and Lee Ronaldo of Sonic Youth, Nels Cline of Wilco, Tom Verlaine of the band Television, long-time Dylan bassist Tony Garnier, keyboardist John Medski and legendary guitarist Smokey Hormel, the group appears on many of the tracks, enhancing the overall sound of the album significantly.

Sonic Youth’s take on the title track is dark and moody; bits of it appear throughout the film to add an aural layer to complement the complex visual landscape Haynes has crafted. Other highlights include Jim James’ & Calexico’s solemn, funereal version of “Goin’ to Acapulco”; Stephen Malkmus’ interpretation of “Ballad of a Thin Man”; Cat Power’s spirited, lively “Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again,” and Jeff Tweedy’s “Simple Twist of Fate” - and that’s just the first disc. Over 34 tracks, numerous different styles and many different interpretations of Dylan’s music emerge. The musical companion to I’m Not There. has set a new standard for compilation soundtracks; if it had been envisioned as a separate project with no attachment to the film, it would have been just as brilliant. Even if you have no interest in the film itself, this deserves a listen - it won’t disappoint.

Napoleon, In Many Different Rags

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Todd Haynes’ new film, originally sub-titled Suppositions on a Film Concerning Dylan, is a fractured but beautifully vibrant presentation of the iconic singer-songwriter’s tumultuous life and times.

I’m Not There (dir. Todd Haynes, 2007)
Review by Hugh Lilly

Robert Allen Zimmerman was born nearly 67 years ago in Duluth, Minnesota. The moniker Bob Dylan, concocted in the early sixties by combining part of his real name with that of Welsh poet Dylan Thomas, would create one of what would eventually become many public personae throughout his lengthy career, which continues to this day. He appeared as a character named Alias in the 1973 Sam Peckinpah film Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, and took on the role of Lucky Willbury in the late-80s supergroup The Traveling Willburys. Now he appears in multiple oscillating guises in a new film by Todd Haynes which uses the talents of numerous actors of various ages, abilities and backgrounds to explore some of the various shifting personae that the charismatic folk hero has embodied in the public consciousness throughout his lengthy career.

“After a certain point, most of what you say about a person only obscures the truth of who they are,” writes Tom Piazza in his liner notes to Murray Lerner’s The Other Side of the Mirror: Bob Dylan Live at the Newport Folk Festival, a documentary which serves as a wide-open window on an emerging artist at the beginning of his life in the public eye. Lerner’s film works without narration, allowing the music to speak for itself, showing the massive change Dylan underwent between the 1963 and 1964 festivals as he became more sure of himself as an artist and more aware of his image in the public consciousness. So much has been written about Dylan, and his life and work so much discussed over the years, that it seems only fitting that a non-linear, unorthodox examination such as Todd Haynes’ I’m Not There. would be the first Dylan-‘approved’ biopic, something that could give new insight into this most enigmatic of public figures.

Its title, derived from a song of the same name previously available only on bootleg recordings, is fitting, for the actual Dylan himself appears almost nowhere in the film except through his lyrics. Songs of his - a mixture of his original recordings, and superb covers by various contemporary artists - pepper the soundtrack and drift in and out, at times even overtaking dialogue and visuals to become the overall force behind the narrative. It has been said that while the real Dylan appears only in the last of the film’s 135 minutes, his guiding hand can be seen invading every facet of it; as Ed Siegel of the Boston Globe suggests, a title for a film solely about his current (real life) persona could be called “I’m All Here”.

Cate Blanchett put a sock down her trousers to play Bob Dylan. “It helped me walk like a man,” she said.

In many respects I’m Not There. works in a similar fashion to Lerner’s Newport festival documentaries, allowing audiences a ‘warts-and-all’ glimpse of various different riffs on the icon that is Bob Dylan; although this is the first so-called biographical film about Dylan, it is by no means a straight-forward re-telling of his life. Simultaneously telling a variety of different stories at multiple points in history, the film opens with a young black boy (the superbly talented Marcus Carl Franklin) who goes by the name of Woody Guthrie, a folk singer . He jumps aboard an empty freight train carriage with a guitar case bearing the emblem “This Machine Kills Fascists,” the same message displayed on the real Guthrie’s guitar. Later in the film he visits Guthrie on his deathbed, and plays songs for him - just as the real Dylan did.

From this point forward the film develops multiple simultaneous narratives; we periodically see a version of Dylan as Arthur Rimbaud (Ben Wishaw) breaking the fourth wall to address us directly, pleading his case in a court. Christian Bale turns in a terrific performance as “Troubadour of Conscience” Jack Rollins, a re-imagining of the early sixties topical folk-singer-Dylan. His segments are presented partly as a retrospective documentary, with Haynes regular Julianne Moore playing an ersatz Joan Baez who looks back on Rollins’ career from the present moment. Rollins, later in the piece, transforms into a gospel-preaching born-again Christian, “Pastor John,” mimicking Dylan’s late-70s foray into religion.

Heath Ledger fittingly embodies the character of Robbie Clark, an up-and-coming Hollywood actor starring in a biopic being made about the fictional Rollins. He meets and later marries Claire, played by Charlotte Gainsbourg, and the two fall in love amidst the nascent folk movement community in Greenwich Village as they develop their careers: she as an abstract artist and he as an actor. Richard Gere pops up as the outlaw Billy The Kid attempting to evade confrontation with Pat Garrett (Bruce Greenwood) in a bizarre, surreal Wild West populated by sideshow freaks and circus clowns. This sequence, while not the most polished in the film, offers its most poignant moment - a funeral set to the song “Going to Acapulco” sung by Jim James and Calexico is most certainly the musical highlight of the whole picture.

“Wherever I am, I’m a ’60s troubadour, a folk-rock relic, a wordsmith from bygone days, a fictitious head of state from a place nobody knows.”

– Bob Dylan

Towering above all this, however, it is Cate Blanchett as Jude Quinn - a stand-in for the Dylan of the mid-sixties, constantly touring to the point of exhaustion - who is the absolute best of the lot. Shot on glorious black-and-white stock, with occasional surreal imagery inspired by Fellini’s 8-½ , these insightful portions examine what life on tour entailed for the rock ‘n’ roll troubadour; all that was expected of him and the myriad ways in which he responded to criticism. Brilliant re-creations of sequences from the 1967 D.A. Pennebaker documentary Dont Look Back are enhanced by the use of covers from other artists in addition to Dylan’s originals. Quinn’s bouts with journalist Keenan Jones are among some of the best moments in the film, taking place often within the confines of the back of a car. One of the best moments occurs near the end, with Quinn alone in the back of a car in the pitch black of night ruminating poetically on life, and it is this strand of the film that allows for some brilliant cameos - David Cross of TV’s Arrested Development embodies Allen Ginsberg flawlessly, and Michelle Williams plays Coco Rivington, an erstwhile Edie Sedgewick. Blanchett spectacularly transforms not only her appearance - she stuffed her trousers with a sock to attain a masculine swagger - but also her voice, re-creating Dylan’s raspy, slightly staccato vocal delivery. She deservedly won numerous overseas awards for her part - most notably at the Venice Film Festival in September last year - but went home empty-handed at many ceremonies in the US, including the Oscars.

Through these many varied musings, Haynes has created a patchwork masterpiece that encompasses a great deal of the intricate minutiae of a very complex figure; something that would have been impossible to accomplish with a single actor: only Dylan himself could pull that off. In fact, as he himself writes in his autobiography, Chronicles, “Wherever I am, I’m a ’60s troubadour, a folk-rock relic, a wordsmith from bygone days, a fictitious head of state from a place nobody knows.”

Links: IMdb, Wikipedia, BobDylan.com

Bonus link: Chinese Students Stole My Student Magazine Because We Ran A Falun Gong Ad - The Something Awful Forums

Portishead - Third

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Portishead - Third (Island, 200 8)

Bristol trip-hop outfit Portishead’s first studio album in eleven years, and their Third overall, is a bit of a mixed bag, with intimate acoustic guitar work and relaxed vocals partially marking a transition away from the heavy, dark world of their previous work.

Tracks like ‘The Rip’ and, in part, ‘Small’ bask in a sparse, warm environment and more closely resemble Gibbons’ recent solo work with Rustin Man - former Talk Talk frontman Paul Webb. ‘Plastic’, however, - especially as it appears in the running order, juxtaposed with ‘The Rip’ - dumps you straight back into the scruffy trip-hop world from which the group emerged in the mid-nineties. ‘Deep Water’ finds vocalist Beth Gibbons alone and plaintive, accompanied only by a ukulele and a moody, rich collective of backing vocalists. ‘Machine Gun’, the album’s lead single, has much in common with recent work by The Prodigy, a group which found popularity in the UK music scene around the same time as Portishead. The mass of electronic effects, including an extensively mined drum machine, is mismatched with the vocal track and hamper it so much that they become obtrusive and irritating in their repetitiveness. ‘Magic Doors’ is perhaps the most enjoyable track on the album, featuring Gibbons’ trademark vocals over a haunting string section and overwrought saxophones. The closer, ‘Threads’, takes on a lounge vibe at the outset, but soon returns to that familiar resonant Portishead sound, rounding out on a dirty repeating note that leaves a bad taste in your mouth -albeit a nice one, like having eaten too many sour lollies.

» Third at The Pirate Bay

In the black

Image:  'lounging and barking‘ found using flickrCC

In this week’s New Yorker, Eric Alterman presents a brief history of the American newspaper; its life, death and possible afterlife on the Internet. Starting with James Franklin’s mid-18th century New England Courant, Alterman tracks the progress of the daily newspaper up to the present day, and also examines how and why Ariana Huffington’s eponymous online newspaper came to be.

The article looks at the decline in sales of dead-tree newspapers, what this means for publically-traded companies like the New York Times Company and the Washington Post Company — and what’s they’re planning on doing to avoid financial ruin. Alterman argues that the transition from a print-based culture, wherein everyone reads the same newspaper every morning, to a collaborative, discursive online culture will “engender serious losses”; namely, he says, the loss in variation between stories. No longer will we read widely about issues of global importance, but rather the Internet will create a tight-knit, insular network of information about only local issues. Furthermore, the author doesn’t believe that citizen journalism can ever adequately take the place of “[the] armies of [staff]” in newsrooms across the world.

“People do awful things to each other,” the veteran war photographer George Guthrie says in “Night and Day,” Tom Stoppard’s 1978 play about foreign correspondents. “But it’s worse in places where everybody is kept in the dark.” Ever since James Franklin’s New England Courant started coming off the presses, the daily newspaper, more than any other medium, has provided the information that the nation needed if it was to be kept out of “the dark.” Just how an Internet-based news culture can spread the kind of “light” that is necessary to prevent terrible things, without the armies of reporters and photographers that newspapers have traditionally employed, is a question that even the most ardent democrat in John Dewey’s tradition may not wish to see answered.

» Read “Out of Print“…

A day in the afterlife of PKD

Found on YouTube, a neat 1994 BBC documentary entitled “A day in the afterlife of Philip K. Dick.” It has these fantastic little interstitial ‘advertisments’ for “PKD products” sold to you by Terry Gilliam, Elvis Costello and others — and readings by Greg Proops! Here’s part one:

It’s also available as a 500MB .avi in torrent form.